Saturday, October 04, 2008
The Future starts here...
I've always thought I'd make a good old person, that I'd rather enjoy it (one's health permitting of course). Presumably you'd have had a career of sorts, you'd had relationships maybe a family, a home to live in, paid your bills and had a little bit of enough cash to sit back and do whatever you damn well pleased.
I often think I'll find religion, not in a happy clappy born-again type way but in that warm, welcoming, tea at the vicarage, village fete type way. I'd bake cakes and do some crafts and raise money for the local school. Hell I'd actually know the words to Jerusalem. I'd cycle about with a crocheted hat and a basket full of books for the second hand bookshop I worked in, maybe even owned? I'd take driving holidays across Europe, discover new countries and re-visit cities whilst reminiscing about what it was like when I saw them the first time around the turn of the century. I'd have learnt to like ginger and I'd try to avoid announcing my age to anyone I met. I imagine I'd have wild grey hair, any attempts to get a shorter do would just be too much hard work, so I'd be a long-haired old lady with a penchant for frocks and red shoes. And I think I would be happy.
Why do I think this? I'm sitting at home curled up on the sofa (well for as long as I can before the tricky hip and the swollen ankles kick in) drinking tea, knitting and listening to a programme on Radio 4 about lost entertainments of a bygone era. And I'm in my pj's. So if that's not something I won't be doing in 30 years time I don't know what is.
I often think I'll find religion, not in a happy clappy born-again type way but in that warm, welcoming, tea at the vicarage, village fete type way. I'd bake cakes and do some crafts and raise money for the local school. Hell I'd actually know the words to Jerusalem. I'd cycle about with a crocheted hat and a basket full of books for the second hand bookshop I worked in, maybe even owned? I'd take driving holidays across Europe, discover new countries and re-visit cities whilst reminiscing about what it was like when I saw them the first time around the turn of the century. I'd have learnt to like ginger and I'd try to avoid announcing my age to anyone I met. I imagine I'd have wild grey hair, any attempts to get a shorter do would just be too much hard work, so I'd be a long-haired old lady with a penchant for frocks and red shoes. And I think I would be happy.
Why do I think this? I'm sitting at home curled up on the sofa (well for as long as I can before the tricky hip and the swollen ankles kick in) drinking tea, knitting and listening to a programme on Radio 4 about lost entertainments of a bygone era. And I'm in my pj's. So if that's not something I won't be doing in 30 years time I don't know what is.
Labels: knitting, old, radio 4
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